ADDRESSES 

TO 

GRADUATES  OF 
THE  WESTERN  ILLINOIS 
STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL 


JUNE  2.  1907 
JUNE  7.  1908 
MAY  30.  1909 

BY 

ALFRED  BAYLISS 

PRINCIPAL 


Printed  in  Manual  Arts  Print  Shop. 


COMPENSATION 


What  Profit  Hath  He  That  Worketh  In 
That  Wherein  He  Laboreth? — Ecclesiastes 
III.  9. 

The  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire. 

Few  men  love  work  for  its  own  sake.  The 
well-nigh  universal  motive  to  labor  is  the 
reward/ — the  “profit  in  that  wherein  he 
laboreth.” 

It  is  not  unfitting,  therefore,  that  you  wno 
deliberately  have  chosen,  and  who  very 
soon  are  to  begin  the  pursuit  of  a definite 
vocation,  and  we,  your  friends,  who  approve 
your  choice,  have  encouraged  it,  and  to  the 
measure  of  our  ability,  sincerely  have 
sought  to  advance  your  preparation  for  it, 
should  together  consider  its  social  value, 
and  what  prospect,  if  any,  there  may  be  of 
worthy  reward. 

The  life  motives  of  no  two  men  ever  were 
or  ever  can  be  just  the  same.  The  barest 
enumeration  of  the  complex  influences  oper- 
ating to  make  up  a single  strong  human 
character  would  transcend  the  limits  of  tne 
present  hour.  Were  the  time  limit  ignored, 
a just  analysis  of  the  same  wrould  baffle  any 
but  Him  who  is  the  searcher  of  all  hearts. 
To  this  much,  however,  we  shall  all  assent. 
In  the  last  analysis,  the  chief  glory  of  any 
human  endeavor  belongs  to  him  who  initi- 
ates it.  Then,  if  it  be  true  that  the  most 
worthy  work  of  man  is  effort  to  improve 
human  conditions,  the  business  of  teaching 
little  children  is  a noble  one.  When  the 
disciples  of  the  great  Teacher  of  man  re- 
buked those  that  brought  little  children  to 
Him,  we  are  told  that  He  was  displeased 


with  the  disciples,  hut  took  the  children  in 
His  arms  and  blessed  them,  declaring  to 
them  who  were  there,  a.nd  to  all  men  for- 
ever, that  “of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en.” So  no  occupation  of  civilized  man  is 
nobler  than  that  of  the  teacher  of  little 
children.  It  is  the  foundation  work  in  the 
perfection  of  mankind. 

Nor,  in  saying  this,  do  I seek  to  exalt  the 
school.  Considered  merely  as  a social  in- 
stitution, the  school  is  not  of  elementary 
rank,  as  the  family,  the  church,  or  the  state. 
Its  function  is  economical  and  secondary. 
It  is  an  organism  which  has  come  into  use 
with  the  growth  of  civilization  to  do  better, 
and  at  less  expense,  part  of  the  work  which 
primarily  belongs  to  the  family, — which  is 
society  in  embryo.  The  school,  then,  is  the 
handmaiden  of  society,  an  indispensable  ad- 
junct to,  but  not  a substitute  for  the  family. 
This  view  is  in  no  way  inconsistent  with 
the  essential  nobility  of  the  teacher’s  work. 
The  son  of  man  declared  that  He,  himself, 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  min- 
ister, and  directed  that  whosoever  would  be 
great  among  men  should  be  their  minister, 
and  whosoever  would  be  chief  among  them, 
let  him  be  their  servant.  Service  thus  be- 
came the  supreme  test,  and  tried  by  that 
test,  no  occupation  is  more  dignified  nor 
more  worthy.  None  is  more  necessary,  save 
only  those  employments  which  have  to  do 
with  the  primal  necessities  of  physical  life 
itself, — food,  shelter  and  clothing. 

Social  ideals  recede,  enlarge,  -and  often 
change  their  forms  as  we  seem  to  approach 
them.  These  transformations  are  silent  and 
usually  unannounced.  The  marvelous  in- 
dustrial growth,  and  changes  of  business 
2 


methods,  due  chiefly  to  the  invention  of 
labor-saving  machinery  and  improved  meth- 
ods of  transportation  of  goods,  are  ob- 
vious enough.  No  less  radical  and,  upon  re- 
flection, equally  obvious  are  the  social 
changes  that  have  accompanied  or  followed 
closely  after  them.  Within  the  easy  recol- 
lection of  men  not  yet  old  the  prevailing 
faith  and  practice  were  that  opportunity 
was  free,  and  the  performance  of  individual 
obligations  came  very  near  to  summing  up 
the  whole  duty  of  man.  The  individualistic 
ideal  certainly  dominated  all  educational 
thought  and  practice.  For  the  common  child, 
the  traditional  three  R’s  and  the  catechism 
were  enough,  and  if  the  child  were  a girl 
there  were  many  who  thought  that  at  least 
one  of  the  R’s  might  be  spared  without 
great  loss. 

But  the  common  consciousness  has  been 
wonderfully  enlarged  in  recent  years.  We 
have  come  to  see  that  social  and  altruistic 
motives  have  to  do  with  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  traming.  Our  notion  of  what  consti- 
tutes a “good,  common,  school  education” 
has  grown  accordingly.  The  substitution  of 
machines  for  the  hands  of  men,  extending 
In  so  many  ways  even  to  the  work  of  the 
household;  the  wonderful  advances  in  col- 
lecting and  distributing  the  news;  the  prog- 
ress of  representative  government  controll- 
ed by  enlightened  public  opinion,  and  the 
growth  of  humanitarianism,  have  combined 
to  increase  the  burden,  and  obligations,  and 
duties  and  ideals  of  the  people’s  schools. 
The  machine  has  made  cities,  and  the  fac- 
tory system  has  made  manual  training  as 
imperative  as  grammar.  The  newspaper 
has  been  a superficial  educator  in  almost 
3 


every  line  of  human  thought  and  endeavor, 
and  the  greatest  of  all  influences  in  form- 
ing and  directing  public  opinion.  The  school 
has  reacted  by  a clearer  recognition  of  its 
responsibility  for  the  initial  steps  in  train- 
ing the  young  citizen  for  his  special  func- 
tion of  self  government.  The  endurance  of 
democracy  depends  upon  the  fidelity  and 
efficiency  of  the  elementary  schools.  Self- 
government  in  schools,  is  by  no  means  a 
vagary,  and  may  be  realized,  as  a mode  of 
training  in  citizenship,  very  soon  after  we 
see  that  its  meaning  is  not  limited  to  the 
mere  duplication  of  forms  intended  to  meet 
other  and  quite  different  conditions.  The 
growth  of  humanitarianism,  or  conscious- 
ness of  kind, — is  manifested  in  a variety  of 
ways.  Five  cities  circulate  through  their 
free  libraries  ten  million  books  a year,  and 
seven  thousand  lesser  ones  do  likewise  in 
proportion  to  their  means.  The  schools  re- 
act upon  the  libraries  both  directly  and  in- 
directly. They  use  the  civic  libraries,  and 
they  establish  little  libraries  of  their  own. 
There  are  ten  thousand  school  libraries  in 
Illinois,  with  a million  volumes  in  them. 
The  schools,  in  their  capacity  of  social  or- 
ganisms, in  imitation  of  the  cities,  are  buy- 
ing books  at  the  rate  of  seventy  thousand 
volumes  a year.  Free  lectures,  art  exhibits, 
social  gatherings,  vacation  schools,  play 
grounds,  out-of-door  as  well  as  in-door  gym- 
nasiums, and  the  utilization  of  the  public 
school  plant  the  year  round,  are  some  of 
the  responses  of  the  schools  in  cities  to  the 
growth  of  altruism  in  society. 

These  things  increase  the  burden  and 
complexity  of  the  teachers’  business.  He 
must  note  and  encourage  the  beginnings  of 
4 


a social  spirit  that  will  grow  into  the  power 
of  sympathy  with  life  under  all  right  condi- 
tions. He  must  develop  an  honest  ambition 
to  be  ini  some  definite  way  a dynamic  force 
in  a progressive  community.  He  must  in- 
oculate the  children  against  the  insidious 
tendency  to  evanescent  ambitions,  and 
ground  them  in  the  conviction  that,  as  hu- 
manity is  now  constituted,  any  youth  with 
a positive  aim,  and  an  ambition  not  incom- 
mensurate with  his  powers,  may  by  sheer 
force  of  will  and  honesty  of  purpose,  push 
himself  through  the  social  drift-wood  to  the 
accomplishment  of  something  quite  to  his 
owiii  credit  and  of  value  to  the  world.  He 
must,  withal,  send  them  on  to  the  next 
grade,  or  out  of  school,  with  as  little  as  pos- 
sible of  what  Emerson  calls  the  distinctive 
foible  of  American  youth, — pretense.  “The 
mark  of  the  man  of  the  world,”  says  he, 
“is  absence  of  pretension.”  He  does  not 
make  a speech,  he  takes  a low  business 
tone,  avoids  all  brag,  is  nobody,  dresses 
plainly,  promises  not  at  all,  performs  mucn, 
speaks  in  monosyllables,  hugs  his  fact.  He 
calls  his  employment  by  its  lowest  name, 
and  so  takes  from  evil  tongues  their  sharp- 
est weapon.”  Something  of  this  poise  and 
reserve  power  should  be  characteristic  of 
the  best  product  of  even  our  commonest 
schools. 

And  as  if  all  this  were  not  enough,  every 
other  year  adds  a new  formal  subject  to 
the  overcrowded  curriculm.  One  year  it  is 
a special  hygiene,  the  next  civics  from  a 
book,  and  the  latest  proposal  is  the  nutri- 
tive value  of  foods,  with  the  elements  of 
scientific  tilling  of  the  soil  in  the  near  back- 
e^ound. 


5 


In  short,  by  a progressive  variation  and 
enlargement  of  its  methods,  the  common 
school  has  become  as  complex  as  society 
itself.  We  measure  its  efficiency  by  the 
degree  in  which  it  harmonizes  its  daily  pro- 
cedure with  the  ends  of  society.  A teacher 
is  good  or  bad  according  as  his  work  fits 
into  the  stage  of  growth  of  the  children. 
A school  is  good  or  bad  according  as  its 
work  fits  the  stage  of  growth  of  the  com- 
munity whose  servant  it  is.  The  constant 
question  before  the  present  day  teacher  is, 
“Does  this  day’s  work  promote  individual 
and  social  growth?”  Progress,  therefore, 
cannot  all  be  in  straight  lines,  nor  can  it 
always  be  estimated  in  figures  or  measured 
by  a yard  stick.  Apportionment  of  oppor- 
tunity must  be  equitable.  God  has  ordained 
that  the  power  of  absorption  shall  be  un- 
equal. The  maximum  growth,,  therefore,  is 
not  the  final  criterion.  Of  course  there  are 
things  of  which  a teacher  must  be  sure. 
But  it  will  often  be  much  more  difficult  for 
you  to  be  sure  of  anything  than  it  will  seem 
to  you  that  it  is  for  sundry  of  your  critics 
to  be  sure  of  everything.  Nor  will  it,  at 
first  thought,  always  be  easy  to  understand 
why  the  teacher  of  ten  years  ago,  who  is 
now  a prosperous  man  of  affairs,  or  the 
mother  of  a brighx,  but  erratic,  boy  seems 
to  measure  results  by  a standard  so  differ- 
ent from  yours.  This  experience  will  test 
your  mettle.  Standards  vary.  Even  stand- 
ards of  morality  change.  So  with  the  tests 
of  education.  Men  and  women,  effiiqienit 
and  progressive  while  actively  employed 
in  education,  suffer  a sort  of  atrophy  when 
their  energies  have  for  some  time  been  di- 
verted to  other  channels.  Their  judgments 
6 


are  not  based  upon  present  facts.  But  tney 
must,  notwithstanding,  be  respected. 

Such  are  some  of  the  elements  -and  con- 
ditions of  the  work  in  which  you  propose 
to  engage.  What  profit  may  you  reasonably 
expect  to  find  therein? 

From  the  pecuniary  point  of  view,  it  may 
as  well  be  conceded  at  the  outset  that  the 
rewards  are  incommensurate  with  the  ser- 
vice expected,  usually  even  with  the  service 
actually  rendered.  We  the  people  do  appre- 
ciate our  working  teachers.  We  do  like 
them.  We  are  both  grateful  and  civil  to 
them.  But  we  do  not  yet  adequately  pay 
them  in  dollars  and  cents.  Let  not  your 
hearts  be  troubled  over  that.  If  we  are  to 
work  up  to  our  highest  efficiency  the  wage 
scale  must  of  course,  include  the  minimum 
cost  of  the  essential  means  of  growth— ^ 
books,  travel  and  reasonable  recreation. 
Over  and  above  these  there  should  be  a lit- 
tle margin  for  the  proverbial  rainy  day. 
This  much  is  but  the  measure  of  the  abso- 
lutely unrefusable.  It  is  merely  the  “Fair 
day’s  wages  for  the  fair  day’s  work,5  indis- 
pensable to  the  noblest  workman  and  the 
least  noble,  if  any  such  distinction  there  be. 

But  if  mere  acquisition  of  wealth  ever  be- 
comes our  governing  motive,  the  teacher’s 
occupation  will  no  longer  attract  us.  Teach- 
ing is  not,  and  happily,  never  will  become 
a lucrative  employment.  It  is  better  so. 
The  commanding  purpose  of  life  is  to  live. 
Teaching  is  the  art  of  guiding  the  life  of 
others,  by  surrounding  it  with  the  condi- 
tions of  and  incentives  to  the  growth  upon 
which  expanding  life  depends.  Great  wealth 
too  often  leads  to  wanton  luxury,  gorgeous 
rainment,  finer  cookery,  dyspepsia,  or  worse 
7 


yet,  to  the  vice  of  greed  and  the  disease  of 
money  mania.  Midas  longed  for  gold.  He 
got  it,— -and  with  it  a pair  of  ears.  Our 
country  has  now  greater  riches  than  any 
nation  ever  had  before;  but  if  it  is  to  be- 
come the  happiest,  wisest,  most  beautiful, 
and  in  all  things  the  best  country  in  the 
world,  it  will  be  for  quite  other  reasons 
than  that.  Considered  -as  a victory — the  re- 
ward of  that  wherein  we  are  to  labor — 
money  beyond  our  needs  hardly  is  worth 
tabulating.  Its  whole  value  is  as  a symbol, 
- the  means  to  -a  worthier  end.  Not  from 
any  point  of  view,  much  less  the  teacher  s, 
is  great  wealth  a final  criterion  of  success. 

2.  Power  among  men,  and  over  them,  as 
a motive  of  life,  hardly  is  more  worthy. 
“Where  the  word  of  a king  is,  there  is 
power;  -and  who  may  say  unto  him,  What 
doest  thou?”  Nevertheless,  uneasy  lies  the 
head  that  wears  a mown.  A man  becomes 
mayor,  or  governor,  or  president, — very  of- 
ten, even  a member  of  the  school  hoard, — 
at  the  expense  of  much  peace  of  mind. 
There  is  a power  behind  every  throne,  as 
well  -as  upon  it.  Too  often  the  “king”  must 
sacrifice  his  manhood,  or  seem  to  fall  down. 
In  the  end  ambition  is  both  dangerous  and 
unsatisfying. 

“By  that  sin  fell  the  angels!” 

“He  who  ascends  to  mountain-tops  shall 
find 

The  loftiest  peaks  most  wrapt  in  clouds 
and  snow; 

He  who  surpasses  or  subdues  mankind 

Must  look  down  on  the  hate  of  those 
below. 

Though  high  above  the  sun  of  glory  glow, 

And  far  beneath  the  earth  and  ocean 

8 


spread, 

Round  him  are  icy  rocks,  and  loudly  blow 

Contending  tempests  on  his  naked  head; 

And  tnus  reward  the  toils  which  to  those 
summits  led.” 

3.  Great  learning,  in  the  sense  of  the 
mere  acquisition  of  knowledge, — as  an  end 
of  living, — is  far  from  the  highest  motive. 
A so-called  learned  man  may  be  the  most 
miserly  and  selfish  of  men.  There  is  a large 
sense  in  which  “much  wisdom  is  much 
grief,”  and  in  which  “he  that  increaseth 
knowledge,  increaseth  sorrow.”  Knowledge 
is  entirely  compatible  with  either  good  or 
evil.  It  is  power.  So  is  money.  Either  may 
be  used  as  a shallow,  ostentatious  toy.  Either 
may  be  the  devil’s  agent  as  well  as  the 
Lord’s.  Knowledge  is  valuable  or  otherwise 
according  to  the  use  we  make  of  it. 

4.  Fame,  too,  the  ignis  fatuus  of  so  many 
unwise  men,  is  one  of  the  master  illusions 
as  a motive  power  of  life.  True  fame,  if  it 
come  at  all,  comes  unsought.  The  whole 
earth  is  filled  with  the  sepulchres  of 
“famous”  men  whose  names  are  unknown. 
When  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates  was  the 
garden  of  the  world  and  the  center  of  its 
power,  one  Tiglath  Pileser  was  “King  of 
all  Kings,  Lord  of  Lords;  the  Supreme;- 
Monarch  of  Monarchs!”  There  was  not  to 
him  a second  in  war  nor  an  equal  in  battle. 
He  himself  admitted  and  so  recorded  it. 
What  is  he  to  us?  A shadow,  a phantom, 
a ghost! 

The  gloiy  of  collective  man  is  less  evan- 
escent. But  Nineveh,  Babylon,  Tyre,  Jeru- 
salem, Athens,  Rome,  and  a thousand  less- 
er centers  of  his  strength  are  but  “jmonu- 
ments  of  his  power  converted  into  the 
9 


mockery  of  his  weakness.”  As  the  apostle 
Peter  wrote  to  the  strangers  scattered 
about  Pontus,  “All  flesh  is  as  grass,  and 
all  the  glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of  grass. 
The  grass*  withereth  and  the  flower  thereof 
fadeth  away.”  There  is  small  profit  tor 
him  that  worketh  if  that  wherein  he  labor- 
eth  is  the  pursuit  of  fame.  For  a brief 
time,  he  may  wear  long  robes,  receive  greet- 
ings in  the  markets,  and  the  highest  seats 
in  the  synagogues,  and  the  chief  rooms  at 
feasts,  but  the  utmost  he  can  surely  leave 
behind  him  will  be  the  record  of  a name, 
whose  spelling  is  disputed,  and  that  he 
lived,  and  flourished, — and  died.  Nobler 
aspiration  than  that  might  well  be  discov- 
ered in  any  kindergarten. 

5.  Even  the  form  of  greatness  called  gen- 
ius is  not  won  by  pursuit,  nor  is  it  a possi- 
ble end  in  itself.  Genius  is  “the  inspired 
gift  of  God.”  The  man  who  has  it  sees 
farther  than  his  contemporaries.  But  his 
eminence  is  a dangerous  one.  The  doom 
of  Galileo  awrnits  him.  Some  Pilate  shall 
scourge  him.  His  crown  shall  be  of  thorns. 
His  fate  the  cup  of  hemlock, — or  the  cross. 

And  so  on  through  all  the  long  catalogue 
of  man's  unsatisfying  desires.  The  truth 
is  that  we  never  can  sell  life  for  a price. 
Money  wages  to  the  extent  of  keeping  him 
alive  and  strong,  to  the  end  that  he  may  con- 
tinue to  work,  I say  again  that  every  workman 
high  and  low,  must  have.  For  the  rest,  he 
that  would  save  his  life  must  lose  it, — byi 
giving  it  away.  Make  the  real  price  noth- 
ing if  you  would  receive  all.  Pray  only  for 
elbowT-room,  insight,  courage,  strength,  and 
leave  to  work.  The  profit  is  in  the  hands 
of  Him  who  is  debtor  to  no  man,  and  in 
10 


whose  eyes  the  faithfulest  of  us  are  un- 
profitable servants.  From  early  in  the 
morning  unto  the  eleventh  hour,  His  com- 
mand is  “Go  ye  also  into  the  vineyard; 
and  whatsoever  is  right  that  shall  ye  re- 
ceive.*’  Nor  let  those  of  us  who  fondly  im- 
agine that  upon  our  shoulders  has  fallen 
the  burden  and  the  heat  of  the  day,  mur- 
mur at  the  thought  that  they  that  were 
hired  about  the  eleventh  hour  may  also  in 
the  end  receive  every  man  a penny. 

In  this  spirit  must  we  enter  upon  our 
high  calling.  It  is  the  peculiarity  of  our 
work  that,  in  a very  large  sense,  it  is  its 
own  continuing  and  increasing  reward.  In 
it,  as  in  hardly  any  other  form  of  human 
endeavor,  the  workman  both,  loses  and  finds 
himself  in  his  work.  It  is  one  manifesta- 
tion of  the  eternal  principle  of  incarnation. 
For  teachers  who  teach  do  so  by  living  the 
life  of  children.  They  sacrifice  their  lives 
by  merging  them  into  the  lives  of  others, 
to  the  end  that  the  weaker  life  may  endure. 
Thus  in  losing,  their  own  lives-  they  save 
them.  And  this;  is  the  teacher’s  profit  in 
that  wherein  he  laboreth. 

I cannot  doubt  that  you  will  attack  your 
chosen  work  with  energy,  and  will,  and 
sympathy,  tempering  your  ambition  by  the 
skill  that  is  in  you.  You  will  not  hurry. 
Neither  will  you  rest.  As  well  try  to  hurry 
the  stars  in  their  courses  as  to  hurry  Life. 
With  this  attitude  of  mind  toward  your 
chosen  task,  one  element  of  your  reward 
appears  in  advance.  You  will  belong  to  the 
worthy  fellowship  of  men  and  women  who 
can  sing  at  their  work.  In  due  time 
strength,  and  insight,  and  skill  will  come 
to  you,  and  in  the  common  school,  God\s 


nursery  of  men,  you  shall  find  the  vantage 
ground  for  a social  service  far  beyond  the 
power  of  silver  and  gold,  and  fame,  and 
che  fleeting  acclamations  of  men  to  meas- 
ure or  reward. 


Macomb,  111.,  Sunday,  June  2,  1907. 


SUCCESS 


“And  likewise  he  that  had  received  two, 
he  also  gained  other  two.” — Matthew, xxv. 17. 

This  parable  of  the  talents  opens  up  the 
whole  question  of  human  life, — its  purpose, 
and  whether  it  shall  be  weak  or  strong. 
It  is  the  question  of  success  or  failure.  A 
man  who  does  not  desire  to  grow  in  know- 
ledge, power  and  skill  to  the  limit  of  his 
capacity,  has  hidden  his  one  talent  in  the 
earth.  He  is  now,  or  presently  will  be- 
come an  unprofitable  servant,  from  wnom 
shall  be  taken  even  that  which  he  hath. 
His  life  will  be  a failure. 

One  of  the  most  severe  tests  of  character 
that  ever  comes  to  us  is  that  which  comes 
during  the  suspense  of  waiting  for  one  s 
opportunity.  It  is  said  of  a most  distin- 
guished volunteer  general  that,  when  the 
army  was  inactive  for  any  considerable 
time,  he  became  so  discontented,  unreason- 
able, and  restless  that  his  superiors  were 
usually  at  a loss  to  know  what  to  do  with 
him — and  even,  sometimes,  concerned  them- 
selves unnecessarily  about  what  to  do  to 
him.  But  he  was;  never  known  to  make 
trouble  for  anybody  but  the  enemy  when 
the  crisis  of  battle  was  on,  or  active  opera- 
tions were  in  progress.  So  between  the 
days  of  our  preparation  for  a vocation  and 
our  actual  entry  upon  it,  there  comes  to 
most  of  us  a period  of  uncertainty, — a com- 
plex of  eagerness,  and  doubt,  and  hesita- 
tion which  is  commonly  followed  by  a feel- 
ing of  relief  when,  at  last,  we  enter  upon 
13 


the  labor  itself.  The  joy  of  labor  then  be- 
comes akin  to  the  joy  of  battle.  If  your  ex- 
perience is  the  common  one,  you  will  real- 
ize within  a few  days  that  you  are  living 
through  such  a period  of  suspense,  and,  by- 
and-by,  it  will  be  followed  by  the  relief  of 
•activity. 

You  have  chosen  a vocation.  It  is  sec- 
ond to  none  in  moral  dignity  or  in  poten- 
tial social  service.  For  this  vocation  you 
are  in  some  degree  trained.  None  of  you 
are  in  the  unskilled  laborer’s  bondage  to 
time  and  place.  You  have  a measure  of 
that  freedom  which  is  the  secret  spring  of 
power, — for  the  five  talent  man  commands 
his  own  price,  and  even  the  two  talent  man 
has  the  advantage  of  a rising  market.  You 
are  thus  doubly  fortunate, — fortunate  in 
your  choice,  and  in  the  freedom  to  pursue 
it. 

In  due  time  the  question  will  come  to 
each  of  you,  “How  shall  I invest  the  surplus 
which  always  comes  to  those  who.  trade 
wisely  with  the  talents  entrusted  to  them?” 
For  manhood  increases,  as  surely  as  money 
does,  by  prudent  and  safe  investment  of 
profits.  No  two  talent  man,  however  indus- 
trious and  economical,  ever  rose  into  the 
five  talent  class  by  the  methods  of  the 
miser.  Mere  saving,  of  course,  is  better 
than  waste.  But  the  timid  servant  was  not 
saving  his  Lord’s  talent  when  he  went  and 
hid  it  in  the  earth.  Hoarding  is  .not  sav- 
ing. It  is  the  miser’s  vice.  The  natural 
penalty  for  hoarding  life  instead  of  expend- 
ing it,  is  the  “outer  darkness.”  It  is  a 
failure. 

What,  then,  is  success,  and  how  shall  we 
attain  it? 


14 


The  question  does  not  admit  a categor- 
ical answer.  Most  of  us  are  prone  to  mis- 
take certain  possible  rewards  of  success 
for  the  thing  itself, — fame,  for  example,  or 
honors.  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that 
the  unknown  man  is  unsuccessful.  It  may 
be  quite  possible  for  one  wThose  name  has 
never  been  printed  in  the  newspapers,  or 
one  who  has  never,  even  been  elected  col- 
lector of  taxes,  to  so  live  that  when  the 
day  of  reckoning,  comes,  he,  though  but  a 
one  talent  man,  shall  hear  the  welcome 
“Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant!” 
Nor  does  success  depend  upon  whether  one 
has  been  given  two  or  five  talents,  or  but  a 
single  talent.  Though  there  are  many  baser 
measures,  I do  not  quite  think  it  is  meas- 
ured by  the  mere  extent  to  which  one  con- 
tributes to  the  general  welfare.  To  be 
sure,  society  grows  by  the  accretions  of 
what  its  efficient  units  add  to  the  common 
stock,  and  he  to  whom  was  given  five  tal- 
ents gave  more  than  the  man  who  received 
but  two.  But  the  latter  was  exactly  as 
successful  as  the  former.  The  one  talent 
man  had  he  gained  one,  would  have  been 
as  successful  as  either,  and  would  have 
been  more  so  than  a five  talent  man  who 
gained  but  four  talents  more. 

Let  us  say  that  the  successful  man  is  the 
one  who  makes  the  most  of  himself,  and  in 
proportion  to  his  gifts,  acquired  powers, 
and  opportunities,  contributes  most  to  the 
common  good.  We  may  no?;  agree  that  this 
definition  is  complete  and  exact.  Whether 
we  do  or  not,  the  realization  of  a life  of 
the  greatest  possible  usefulness,  each  for 
himself,  is  no  mean  ambition,  and  the  time 
spent  in  considering  how  we  may  achieve 
15 


this  much  cannot  be  wholly  lost. 

In  every  life  there  are  four  leading  fac- 
tors, heredity,  environment,  accident  and 
personality.  The  first  and  third  we  can- 
not help.  The  second  we  can  affect  only 
through  the  last.  Our  personality,  or  char- 
acter, is  a combination  of  physical,  intel- 
lectual, aesthetic  and  moral  qualities.  These 
are  the  talents  with  which  we  are  to  trade. 
Our  conceptions  of  what  things  amount  to 
“satisfactions”  of  the  desires  that  spring 
out  of  these  qualities,  and  our  mode  of  pro- 
cedure in  obtaining  them,  determine  our 
character  a.nd  whether  it  is  static  or  kin- 
etic, growing  or  atrophied.  The  manner  in 
which  we  bring  our  personality  to  bear 
upon  our  environment  in  the  act  of  satis- 
fying our  physical  desires  is,  so  far  as 
others,  who  see  only  the  outward  manifes- 
tations, are  concerned,  the  common  meas- 
ure of  our  capability.  But,  in  the  case  of 
the  young  man  or  woman,  there  is  frequent- 
ly a margin  of  error  for  which  their  elders 
do  not  always  fully  allow.  They  often  over- 
look the  merely  budding  capabilities,  and, 
of  course,  cannot  see  the  inward  ones.  In 
the  spring-time  of  life  the  outward  mani- 
festations and  the  inward  possibilities  do 
not  always  harmonize.  Every  new  man 
Jives  in  a new  time.  Thus  it  is  inevitable 
that  some  time  must  be  lost — consumed — 
in  discovering  true  relations  between,  and 
in  acquiring  a true  perspective  of  things. 
This  no  other  can  do  for  us.  Each  of  us, 
often  under  the  sharp  spur  of  hunger,  must 
solve  this  problem  for  himself.  Happy  are 
they  who  do  not  consume  a whole  life  in 
floundering  about  from  one  disappointed  ex- 
pectation to  another,  until  their  allotted 
16 


three  score  years  and  ten  are  wasted  and 
gone  beyond  recall. 

This  process  of  adjustment  is  not  al- 
ways easy.  It  involves,  in  the  first  place, 
the  inventory  of  our  working  capital.  Often 
the  young  man  sees  double,  or  quintruple, 
and  his  one  talent  looks  to  him  like  two  or 
five.  Such  an  one  has  been  likened  to  an 
unbroken  colt  starting  for  the  forbidden 
pasture  only  to  find  the  barrier  impassaDie. 
The  folly  of  inexperience  drives  him  on. 
He  follows  the  line  fence,  but  finds  it  every- 
where in  perfect  repair,  lunges  madly  and 
repeatedly  upon  its  cruel  barbs,  fortunate, 
if,  at  last,  he  settles  down  to  the  sparse 
but  honest  picking,  and  waits  for  nature’s 
processes  to  heal  his  lacerated  sides  and 
limbs.  I knew  a young  soldier  once  who 
was  too  cock-sure  that  the  weapons  of  war 
were  sabres  and  carbines,  whose  first  order 
hit  him  like  an  electric  shock:  “Take  a 
spade  and  clean  out  that  ditch!”  He,  prob- 
ably, had  not  then  heard  the  familiar  ad- 
monition “Do  the  nearest  duty  first,”  but 
he  found  it  the  necessary  way  then,  as  he 
lived  to  find  it  the  better  way  always.  In 
the  period  of  self-discovery  no  other  rule 
of  action  is  more  universal.  I believe  that 
no  other  is  equally  safe. 

Shall  we,  then,  you  are  saying,  abandon 
our  ideals?  I hope  not.  But  when  the 
hour  of  self-realization  comes,  we  shall 
have  found  that  our  ideals  as  well  as  their 
impediments  are  in  ourselves  and  not  in 
the  conditions  which  surround  us.  Circum- 
stances are  the  stuff  to  be  shaped  and 
adapted.  Our  America  is  all  around  us, 
and  not  away  off  yonder.  The  place,  the 
material,  the  tools,  are  non-esentials.  Tne 
17 


workman  is  everything. 

The  nearest  approach  to  an  ideal  school 
I have  yet  known  was  out  on  the  prairie 
in  an  ugly  little  “box  car”  witn  four  win- 
dows and  one  stove,  “13”  unassorted  child- 
ren, and  a two-talent  teacher  whom  the 
near  by  town  people,  while  suffering  from 
acute  ophthalmia,  rejected  on  the  ground 
that  she  did  not  seem  to  them  to  be  en- 
dowed with  one  talent. 

This  does  not  imply  that  you  should  not 
be  ambitious.  But  the  prime  condition  of 
realization  is  self-knowledge.  Is  the  work 
worthy?  Can  I do  it?  Too  many  men  are 
like  the  unfortunate  dog  to  whose  tail  some 
human  imp  has  fastened  a tin  can  full  of 
pebbles.  Their  ambition  chases  them.  The 
faster  they  run,  the  louder  the  rattle,  and 
the  louder  the  din  the  more  fool- 
ish the  chase.  But  if  one  has  ac- 

quired a perspective,  discovered  himself, 
adjusted  his  inward  capability  to  his  out- 
ward, his  ideals  to  original,  actual  condi- 
tions, and  learned  to  discriminate  between 
the  noble  and  ignoble,  he  may  safely  put 
forth  his  strength.  It  does  not  look  so  to 
most  of  us  today,  for  example,  but  a thou- 
sand years  hence  Booker  T.  and  George  of 
the  same  name  may  be  much  nearer  to- 
gether than  they  seem  just  now.  It  was  a 
with  the  first  Washington.  Is  it  less  so, 
though  objectively  so  different,  in  the  case 
of  this  one?  The  ideal  of  both  is  human 
progress  through  freedom.  The  tin  can 
figure  is  a rude  one,  but  it  fits.  Amb;itioin 
of  that  order  is  the  greatest  illusion  of 
life.  In  the  opinion  of  the  ancients  “to.e 
was  the  great  man  who  scorned  to  shine,” 
and  it  is  written  that  “before  honor  is  hu- 
18 


mility.” 

The  main  purpose  of  this  pseudo-ambi- 
tion is,  of  course,  what  we  usually  think  of 
as  some  one  of  the  “higher  positions”  in 
life.  I have  a friend  who  wishes  with  all 
his  heart  to  be  a “Colonel,”  but  who  by  rea- 
son of  age  and  otherwise  is  quite  disquali- 
fied. He  is  not  altogether  singular.  If  a 
thousand  volunteers  were  wanted  in  Ma- 
comb, they  would  be  forthcoming,  and  there 
would  be  many  candidates  for  Colonel  be- 
sides the  one  who  could  command  a thou- 
sand men  better  than  any  other.  The  love 
of  precedence  is  a stronger  motive  with 
most  of  us  than  the  sense  of  power  and 
duty.  Many  a well-meaning  father  has  said 
“I  am  making,  great  sacrifices  to  give  my 
boy  an  education.  I want  him  to  have  a 
better  chance  in  the  world  than  I have! 
had,” — meaning  all  the  while  that  he  want-1 
ed  him  to  be  in  some  way  a more  conspi- 
cuous citizen.  “Getting  on  in  the  world,” 
is  all  well  enough  if  we  mean  the  right' 
thing  by  it.  But  the  motive  must  not  be 
too  low,  and  vanity  is  just  one  round  below 
the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder  by  which 
we  should  rise.  It  is  on  the  ground. 

The  noble  ambition  is  to  know  rightly 
what  we  can  do,  and  then,  without  haste 
and  without  rest,  to  go  ahead  and  do  it. 
Let  him  who  would  be  great  first  become 
*.  minister.  Social  service  is  the  chief  end 
of  man.  The  man  who  knows  his  own 
limitations  best  is-  the  strongest.  There 
will  always  be  work  for  the  strong  man. 
“Infinite  is  the  help  man  can  yield  to  man.” 
If  he  have  steadfastness  of  mind,  the  re- 
ward will  come.  It  will  be  just  enough, 
too.  What  is  it  to  him  whether  his  origi 
19 


nal  tal'ent  be  one  or  five?  That  is  the  busi- 
ness of  the  Master.  If  the  one-talent  man 
had  traded  with  it  and  gained  another,  ne, 
too,  might  have  heard  the  “well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant.” 

But  if  one  has  found  his  work,  has  ad- 
justed himself  to  it,  and  at  length  finds 
himself  a leader  of  other  men  in  their  com- 
mon work,  his  success  is  still  in  danger  of 
falling,  short  if  he  forgets  that  “A  man 
shall  eat  good  by  the  fruit  of  his  mouth,” 
and  that  “He  that  keepeth  his  mouth  keep- 
eth  his  life.”  There  is  a source  of  strength 
which  we  are  taught  to  seek  without  “vain 
repetitions”  and  we  are  warned  that  “much 
speaking”  will  not  avail  us.  “Not  William, 
the  silent,  only/'  says  the  great  Scotchman 
in  his  greatest  book,  “but  all  the  consider- 
able men  I have  known,  and  the  most  un- 
diplomatic and  unstrategic  of  these,  fore- 
bore to  babble  of  what  they  were  creating 
and  projecting.  Nay,  in  thy  own  mean  per- 
plexities, do  thou,  thyself,  but  hold  thy 
tongue  for  one  day,  on  the  m-orrow  how 
much  clearer  are  thy  purposes  and  duties; 
what  wreck  and  rubbish  have  those  mute 
workmen  within  thee  swept  aw^ay,  when  in- 
trusive noises  tyere  shut  out!  Speech  is 
too  often  not,  as  the  Frenchman  defined  it, 
the  art  of  concealing  thought,  but  of  quite 
stifling  and  suspending  thought,  so  that 
there  is  none  to  conceal.  Speech  too  is 
great,  but  not  the  greatest.  As  the  Swiss 
inscription  says:  Sprechern  ist  Silbern, 
Schweigen  ist  Golden;  or  as  I might  rather 
express  it:  Speech  is  of  Time,  Silence  is  of 
Eternity.” 

“Bees  will  not  work  except  in  darkness; 
thought  will  not  work  except  in  silence; 

20 


neither  will  virtue  work  except  in  secrecy. 
Let  not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right 
hand  doeth!  Like  other  plants,  virtue  will 
not  grow  unless  its  roots  be  hidden,  buried 
from  the  eye  of  the  sun.  Let  the  sun  shine 
on  it,  nay,  do  but  look  at  it  privily  thyself, 
the  root  withers,  and  no  flower  will  glad 
thee.”  Or,  in  other,  and  fewer  and  simp- 
ler words,  a good  tree  is  known  by  its 
fruits,  or  by  our  work  and  not  by  our  words 
shall  we  be  justified  or  condemned. 

Over  and  above  all  this,  is  there  anything 
not  nominated  in  the  bond,  but  which  also 
constitutes  part  of  the  weightier  matter  of 
the  law  of  a successful  life?  Knowledge  is 
good.  Right  ideas  are  good.  Efficiency  is 
good.  So  also,  provided  they  do  not  take 
a fixed  or  permanent  form,  high  ideals  are 
good.  This,  I think,  suggests  one  other 
factor  in  the  kind  of  life  we  are  considering. 
The  law  of  intellectual  and  ethical  growth 
is  a continuing  one.  The  day  we  arrive  at 
the  deliberate  conclusion  that  we  are  justi- 
fied in  merely  holding  fast  to  present  pow- 
ers and  acquisitions',  stagnation  sets  in. 
The  day  that  growth  stops,  we  bury  our 
Lord’s  talent.  That  day  we  die.  While  we 
live  we  must  live.  Life  means  growth.  To 
stop  growing  to  die.  No  man  ought  ever 
to  come  to  the  end  of  his  road. 

“This  is  the  true  sign  of  ruin  to  a race — 

It  undertakes  no  march,  and  day  by  day 
Drowses  in  camp, or  wTit,h  the  laggard’s  pace, 
Walks  sentry  o’er  possessions  that  decay; 
Destined  with  sensible  waste,  to  fleet  away ; 
For  the  first  secret  of  continued  power 
Is  the  continued  conquest;  all  our  sway 
Hath  surety  in  the  uses  of  the  hour; 

If  that  we  waste,  in  vain  walled  town  and 

21 


lofty  tower.” 

Let  me  close  by  calling  to  your  minds 
but  one  other  prime  factor  in  a successful 
life,  namely,  the  power  of  centering  the  at- 
tention and  the  will  on  the  object  in  entire 
forgetfulness  of  self.  The  best  thing  in  the 
world  is*  character.  The  next  best  is  happi- 
ness. Neither  is  found  until  self  is  lost. 
If  we  cannot  lose  ourselves  in  our  work, 
our  work  is  unworthy  of  our  best  effort.  It 
is4  not  conducive  to  our  highest  growth. 
But  if  it  be  a task  in  proportion  to  the 
talents  entrusted  to  us,  our  daily  task  is 
our  best  educator,  our  surest  well-spring 
of  happiness.  That  does  not  mean  that  it 
is  necessarily  either  great  or  small  intrin- 
sicially.  The  common  work  must  be  done. 
Any  work  is  a great  work  for  us  if  it  calls 
out  our  full  power, — and  absorbs  us. 

To  no  vocation  does  this  law  apply  more 
rigorously  than  to  that  of  the  teacher.  To 
attain  efficiency,  increase  it  by  intellectual 
and  spiritual  growth,  crown  it  with  the 
ability  to  lose  one’s  self  in  the  appointed 
work  or  duty, — this  is  to  be  successful. 

Like  begets  like  in  all  nature.  If  we  can 
live  this  life  we  may  induce  the  same  mode 
of  life  in  our  pupils?  Some  of  your  schools 
may  be  small.  I sincerely  hope  that  will 
be  the  case.  A wise  ancient  once  said: 
“You  will  confer  the  greatest  benefits  on 
your  city,  not  by  raising  its  roofs,  but  by 
exalting  its  souls.  For  it  is  better  that  great 
souls  should  live  in  small  habitations  than 
that  abject  souls  should  burrow  in  great 
houses.  Our  vocation,  in  its  highest  as- 
pect, is  the  exaltation  of  souls.  This,  how- 
ever desirable  such  accessories  may  be, 
does  not  depend  upon  a great  building,  a 
22 


profusion  of  modern  appliances,  nor  a high 
salary.  These  things  in  themselves  are 
hardly  less  futile  than  the  success  that  at- 
tends mere  cleverness  and  dexterity,  or 
the  cajolery  of  the  weaknesses  of  men. 
They  do  not  touch  either  the  root  or  the 
heart  of  the  matter  we  are  considering. 
Dominie  Jamieson  did  not  wheedle  his 
“Maecenas”  for  a minute,  but  he  made 
him  help  keep  the  grass  down  on  the  road 
“atween  the  college  and  the  schule-hoose 
of  Drumtochty”  by  the  vigorous  use  of 
Scotch  epithets  and  straightforward  plain 
speaking.  Drumtochty  school  was  small. 
It  was  out  in  the  woods.  Like  so  many  in 
Illinois,  it  had  a door  in  one  end,  and  birds 
sometimes  flew  in  unheeded.  But  “schol- 
ars- were  born  there,  for  the  Domsie  had 
ideals,  the  missionary  spirit,  and  the  power 
to  lose  himself  in  his  work.  Not  all  of  us 
may  ever  be  able  to  say  that  “for  five  and 
thirty  years  w-e  have  never  wanted  a stu- 
dent at  the  university,”  but  most  of  us  may 
blaze  some  section  of  a trail  leading  lrom 
the  door  of  a little  school  to  a higher,  and 
guide  some  younger  ones  therein  for  a por- 
tion of  the  way.  The  life  that  begets  life, 
the  growth  that  induces  growth, — this  is 
the  common  school  teacher’s  reward.  By 
that  sign  he  conquers.  For  him,  as  for  all 
men,  the  ability  to  keep  his  ideals  within 
his  own  possibilities,  and  yet  constantly 
enlarge  them,  to  increase  his  life  by  in- 
vesting it,  to  save  it  by  giving  it  away, — 
this  is  to  solve  the  problem  of  a success- 
ful life. 

Macomb,  111.,  June  7,  1908. 


23 


PEACE 


He  hath  not  dealt  so  with  any  nation. — 
Psalm  CXLVII.-20. 

He  who  influences  the  times  in  which  he 
lives  influences  all  the  times  which  are  to 
follow. — Lincoln. 

The  poet  who  wrote  the  beautiful  festal 
anthem,  part  of  which  we  have  just  read 
together,  was  the  greatest  and  most  war- 
like king  of  the  chosen  people  of  Jehovah. 
His  reign  and  that  of  his  son,  together 
covered  the  most  glorious  period  of  their 
national  history.  The  Jews  are  no  longer 
a nation,  but  a scattered,  and,  in  many 
lands,  a persecuted  people.  Most  of  them 
persist  in  rejecting  the  gospel  of  Him  who 
is  the  chief  glory  of  their  race.  But  while 
the  world  has  been  discovering  that  it  is 
impossible  to  destroy  them,  it  has  been 
profoundly  influenced  by  them,  and  the  deot 
of  civilization  to  the  Hebrew  people  is  im- 
measurable. The  most  advanced  civil  and 
social  systems  are  founded  upon  their  laws. 
We  rest  one  day  in  seven  by  virtue  of  the 
social  persistence  of  a Jewish  law.  We 
read,  mark,  and  inwardly  digest  their  his- 
tory. Their  unequalled  lyric  poetry  was 
never  before  used  in  public  worship  by  as 
many  people  as  use  it  today.  We  reverent- 
ly acknowledge  thieir  God,  and  pray  to  Him 
after  the  manner  taught  us  by  His  son,  our 
Lord, — a Jew  of  Galilee.  Ethically  speak- 
ing, no  other  branch  of  the  human  family 
has  contributed  so  much  to  the  sum  of  hu- 
man happiness.  But  as  a nation  th:eir  glory 
24 


has  departed,  and,  as  far  as  we  can  now 
see,  forever. 

The  time,  which  elapsed  between  the  exo- 
dus of  the  Jews  from  Egypt  and  the  dis- 
ruption of  the  powerful  kingdom  of  David 
and  Solomon  approximates  closely  the  peri- 
od between  Columbus  and  the  war  between 
the  States,  the  memory  of  which  is  in  all 
our  minds  today.  How  different  would  have 
been  our  history  had  the  Union  been 
broken!  It  was  not  so  ordained.  Our  pio- 
neers continued  their  onward  march.  Fron- 
tier after  frontier  was  established,  obliter- 
ated, and  forgotten.  Even  while  the  out- 
come of  our  struggle  for  existence  was  yet 
doubtful,  the  great  race  between  the  Union 
and  Central  Pacific  railroads  was  begun, 
and  presently  there  was  no  frontier,  nor 
East  nor  West.  The  preserved  Uuion  has 
increased  in  material  resources  until  it 
has  become  the  first  market-place  of  the 
world,  consuming  more  than  a third, — 
nearly  a half, — of  all  the  products  of  hu- 
man industry.  Nowhere  else  on  the  whole 
earth  are  so  many  people,  under  one  govern- 
ment, as  well  fed,  and  clothed,  and  shel- 
tered. Perhaps,  in  no  other  nation  are 
these  fundamentals  of  civilization  so  gener- 
ously supplemented  by  the  means  of  satis- 
faction of  the  higher  desires  of  Knowledge, 
Beauty,  and  Righteousness.  To  no  nation 
so  aptly  as  to  our  own,  do  the  lines  of  the 
Psalm  now  apply: 

He  hath  strengthened  the  bars  of  thy  gates; 
He  hath  blessed  thy  children  within  thee. 
He  maketh  peace  in  thy  borders; 

He  filleth  thee  with  the  finest  of  the  wheat. 

Are  we,  too,  in  a peculiar  sense  a 
“chosen”  people,  a national  instrument  in 
25 


the  right  hand  of  Him  who  changeth  not? 
No  man,  of  a certainty,  can  answer  such  a 
question.  Nor  can  we  forsee  our  na- 
tional destiny.  We  do  not  in  these 
later  days  so  often  characterize  it 
as  manifest.”  One  significant  fact,  how- 
ever, is  coming  into  our  national  conscious- 
ness. The  true  grandeur  of  a nation  does 
not  depend  upon  its  power  in  war.  We  see 
that  aggressive  war  as  an  agent  of  national 
evolution  has  very  nearly  outlived  its  use- 
fulness. Organized  murder  is  as  unright- 
eous and  as  foolish  as  the  duel.  War  is  a 
means  of  settling  relative  might;  but  as  a 
means  of  determining  relative  right,  it  is 
as  uncertain  as  it  is  sinful.  No  dispute  is 
ever  settled  until  it  is  settled  right.  By 
nations,  no  less  than  by  individuals,  wise 
purposes  are  established  by  counsel.  So 
on  the  other  hand,  we  may  justly  antici- 
pate that  our  favored  location  and  increas- 
ing strength  will  combine  to  give  us  a lead- 
ing,— perhaps  the  first, — place  among  peace 
making  and  peace  loving  nations.  Ameri- 
can representatives  may  exceed  in  number 
those  of  any  other  world-power  in  the  first 
general  assembly  of  the  parliament  of  man. 
For  the  federation  of  the  world  is  no  longer 
a poet’s  dream.  It  is  a visible,  on-coming 
reality.  Into  the  common  consciousness  of 
the  world  is  coming  the  great  truth  pro- 
claimed by  the  royal  Hebrew  poet,  that 

“There  is  no  king  saved  by  the  multitude 
of  an  host. 

A mighty  man  is  not  delivered  by  great 
.strength.” — (Ps.  32:16.) 

In  saying  this,  I am  not  looking  backward. 
I would  turn  your  minds  to  the  possibilities 
of  the  future.  We  cannot  recall  the  past. 

26 


Nor  if  we  could,  who  shall  say  that  the  men 
who  fought  so  hard  and  so  well  for  the 
Peace  of  Appomattox  could  have  done  other- 
wise than  just  as  they  did.  The  men  who 
di?d  to  save  the  Union, — they  and  their 
comrades,  living  and  dead, — were  the  in- 
carnation of  the  conscience  of  an  aroused 
nation  whose  life  was  threatened,  and  whose 
destiny  was  in  the  balance.  All  honor  to 
them!  -From  the  humblest  little  coffee- 
cooler  in  the  ranks,  to  Sherman,  the  mag- 
nificent, and  Grant,  the  silent  man  and 
brave,  not  one  of  them  fought  for  conquest, 
or  glory,  or  the  lust  of  war.  The  Civil  war 
was  a struggle  for  self-preservation;  an  act 
of  obedience  to  the  first  law  of  all  nature. 
In  the  providence  of  God,  the  Union  was 
preserved,  and  the  prospects  spread  out  be- 
fore us  continue  to  be  “high,  exciting,  and 
gratifying,”  as  Webster  said  they  would  be 
as  long  as  it  lasts.  Nor  can  I,  for  one,  ques- 
tion the  national  motives  which  impelled 
the  rescue  of  Cuba  from  the  rapacity  and 
cruelty  of  decadent  Spain.  That  war  if  war 
it  may  be  called — was  waged  in  the  spirit 
of  the  noblest  declaration  of  our  greatest 
and  most  magnanimous  soldier, — “Let  us 
have  Peace!”  It  was  as  upright,  unselfish, 
and  free  from  passion  as  the  lawful  pro- 
cedure of  a trained  policeman.  It  was  a 
deed  of  national  altruism  done  “with  malice 
toward  none.” 

But  the  prophecy  of  the  future  is  Peace. 
Wars  will  cease,  spears  be  cut  asunder,  and 
bows  be  broken.  Chariots  will  be  burned 
in  the  fire,  swords  become  plow-shares,  and 
spears  pruning  hooks.  “Nation  shall  not 
lift  up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall 
they  learn  war  any  more.” 

27 


In  His  own  good  time.  He  to  whom  one 
day  is  as  a thousand  years,  and  a thousand 
years  as  one  day,  shall  judge  between  the 
nations,  and  every  throne  un  earth  shall  be 
established  by  righteousness. 

This,  then,  is  the  one  thought  I would 
have  you  carry  away  from  this  place  today: 
The  objective  point  of  prophecy  and  history 
alike  is  the  pacification  of  the  world,  and 
that,  if  we,  the  teachers  of  America,  do  our 
duty  well,  we  may  hasten  this  so  much  to 
be  desired  consummation. 

How  shall  we  know  our  duty? 

That,  none  of  us  is  able  to  see  in  its  en- 
tirety. Some  fragments,  or  nearby  ele- 
ments thereof  we  may  perceive,  though  no 
two  of  us,  perhaps,  see  even  them  in  the 
same  perspective  nor  in  just  the  same  com- 
bination. 

This  much  seems  clear  to  me.  If  the 
sword  goes,  the  book  must  come.  "The  dia- 
meter of  the  moral  and  ideal  good,”  said 
a greater  Frenchman  than  Napoleon,  “cor- 
responds to  the  calibre  of  men’s  minds.  In 
proportion  to  the  worth  of  the  brain  is  the 
worth  of  the  heart.”  Hence  the  utility  of 
the  book  and  the  schoolmaster.  Without 
justice  there  can  be  no  lasting  peace.  Jus- 
tice is  the  product  of  reason.  So  the  power 
to  read, — by  which  I mean  the  power  to 
think, — becomes  a universal  human  require- 
ment. Thus  our  work  lies  at  the  very  roots 
of  the  national  life.  Whoever  else  fails,  we 
must  succeed. 

What,  then,  is  our  ethical  ideal?  Here 
again  no  complete  answer  is  ready  made, 
waiting  to  be  promulgated.  Some  element- 
al conditions  seems  to  be  evident.  Civiliza- 
tion is  founded  upon  efficiency.  The  most 
28 


precious  gift  of  the  Creator  to  His  creatures 
is  ability, — the  power  to  do  things.  So- 
ciety is  made  up  of  individuals.  Individuals, 
spontaneously  or  voluntarily,  become  aggre- 
gates. Voluntary  aggregates  of  individuals 
become  social  organs.  These  organs  de- 
velop and  exercise  capacities  for  subordina- 
tion, co-  operation,  self-control  and  altruism 
in  the  ratio  of  the  total  combining  power  of 
such  capacities  in  the  units  which  compose 
them.  No  social  organism,  whether  family, 
church,  school,  or  state  can  maintain  its 
health  and  systematically  grow  if  the  indi- 
viduals which  compose  it  are  inefficient,  im- 
moral, or  weak. 

Hence,  what  we  call  “education;”  a term 
very  elusive  of  definition.  Its  purpose  is  to 
increase  the  psychical  and  moral  wealth  of 
society  in,  at  least,  the  ratio  of  its  increase 
in  numbers  and  physical  strength.  The  pro- 
cess seems  to  be  a two-sided  one.  The  new 
social  units  must  be  so  trained  as  to  set 
up  in  their  minds  such  standards  of  ethical 
values  as  will  make  them  safe  and  sane, 
and,  to  the  extent  that  each  is  able  to  assi- 
milate it,  he  must  be  put  in  possession  of 
the  accumulated  experience  of  the  race. 
This  is  our  work  for  progress  and  for  peace. 
In  what  spirit  do  we  consciously  and  delib- 
erately purpose  to  do  it?  How  shall  the 
children  we  teach  act  and  react?  What  shall 
they  know?  These  two  things  determine 
what  they  shall  be.  What  they  become  de- 
termines the  future  of  the  nation. 

“It  might  be  a,  matter  of  dispute,”  said 
one  of  the  greatest  teachers  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, “what  processes  have  +he  greatest 
effect  in  developing  the  intellect;  but  it  can 
hardly  be  disputed  what  facts  it  is  most  ad- 
29 


visable  that  a young  man  entering  into  life 
should  accurately  know.  I believe,  in  brief, 
that  he  ought  to  know  three  things: 

First — Where  he  is, — 

Secondly — Where  he  is  going, — 

Thirdly — What  he  had  best  do  under 
those  circumstances. 

The  man  who  knows  these  things  and 
who  has  had  his  will  so  subdued  in  learning 
them,  that  he  is  ready  to  do  what  he  knows 
he  ought,  I should  call  educated;  and  the 
man  who  knows  them  not,  uneducated, 
though  he  could  talk  all  the  tongues  of 
Babel.” 

Let  us  see  what  this  “Course  of  Study” 
includes.  First:  “Where  he  is,”  Ruskin  ex- 
plained that  he  meant  by  the  phrase  “where 
he  is,”  “what  sort  of  a world  he  has  got  in- 
to; how  large  it  is;  what  kind  of  creatures 
live  in  it,  and  how;  what  it  is  made  of,  and 
what  may  be  made  of  it,”  which  sounds  like 
a definition  of  geography,  or  reminds  one  ut 
the  first  of  the  four  standards  set  up  by  Dr. 
Van  Dyke, — the  power  of  clear  sight,  or  the 
third  category  in  Huxley’s  wonderful  defi- 
nition, “a  mind  stored  with  a knowledge  of 
the  great  fundamental  truths  of  nature  and 
of  the  laws  of  her  operations.”  “Did  you 
ever  see  the  earth,  Johnnie,”  said  a dear 
little  miss  of  a teacher  just  out  of  the 
eighth  grade.  “No,  ma’am,”  said  Master 
John.  We  shall  fall  far  short  of  the  educa- 
tion that  will  make  America  the  first  peace- 
maker of  the  world  until  we  see  to  it  that 
every  young  citizen  is  made  consciously 
aware  that  he  lives  on  an  earth,  in  an  at- 
mosphere, and  that  he  is  affected  by  and 
can  affect  both.  He  is  entitled  to  know,  and 
our  national  destiny  is  retarded  until  he 
30 


does  know,  something  of  the  flora  and  fauna 
of  the  earth, — “what  kind  of  creatures  live 
in  it,” — and  to  go  out  into  it  with  some 
knowledge  of  the  wonderful  story  of  rock 
and  plant  and  animal,  as  translated  by  the 
methods  of  modern  scientific  research.  Are 
we  doing  so  much  as  this?  Read  the  fear- 
fully and  wonderfully  constructed  child 
labor  law  and  see.  Not  so  long  as  the  mere 
ability  to  read  at  sight  and  write  legibly 
simple  sentences  is  the  only  safeguard 
between  the  celebration  of  a lad’s 
fourteenth  birthday  by  taking  him 
from  school  and  putting  him  at  a 
man’s  work.  One  such  “breath  of  God; 
bestowed  in  heaven,  but  on  earth  never  to 
be  unfolded”  refused  even  one  day  of  grace 
for  each  year  of  his  life,  went  out  from  un- 
der this  roof  the  week  before  last,  pleading, 
as  he  went,  with  tears  and  quivering  lip, 
that  his  lesson  lists  and  books  from  the 
library  might  be  sent  to  him  to  study  at 
night.  When  the  case  came  to  my  atten- 
tion, the  bitter  cry  of  the  great  Scotchman 
came  to  me:  “That  there  should  be  one 
man  die  ignorant  who  had  capacity  for 
knowledge,  this  I call  a tragedy,  were  it  to 
happen  more  than  twenty  times  a minute, 
as  by  some  computations  it  does.  The  miser- 
able fraction  of  science  which  our  united 
mankind,  in  a wide  Universe  of  Nescience, 
has  acquired,  why  is  not  this,  with  all  dili- 
gence, imparted  to  all?” 

Secondly, — Where  he  is  going?  Ruskin 
explains  that  he  means  by  this  that  the  edu- 
cated man  should  know  “what  chances  or 
reports  there  are  of  any  other  world  than 
this; — and  whether  for  information  con- 
cerning it,  he  had  better  consult  the  Bible, 
31 


the  Koran,  or  the  Council  of  Trent./*  There 
is  reason  to  believe  that  the  religious  mo- 
tive in  education  is  undervalued.  If  this 
view  be  true,  the  reasons  why  the  school 
can  hardly  do  more  than  it  does  seem  also 
to  indicate  that  the  cognate  institutions, 
family  and  church,  must  do  more.  The  con- 
dition is  as  it  is.  The  reasons  for  its  exis- 
tence do  not  alter  the  fact.  If  the  wnoie 
man  i.s*  to  be  educated,  speaking  broadly, 
and  disregarding  dogma,  his  religious  nature 
may  not  be  ignored.  Leaving  out  of  con- 
sideration both  religion  and  dogma,  think- 
ing only  of  literature,  it  will  be  lamentable 
indeed  if  familiarity  with  the  English  Bible, 
greatest  of  all  classics,  ever  ceases  to  be  an 
essential  part  of  the  equipment  of  a culti- 
vated man. 

Thirdly, — “What  he  had  best  do  under  the 
circumstances.”  Here  we  ought  to  find  com- 
mon ground.  More,  maybe,  than  most  of 
us  can  well  cultivate.  The  honesty  which 
is  the  best  policy,  the  honesty  which  al- 
ways pays  its  debts,  and  never  scamps 
work, — the  honesty  which  would  scorn  to 
pack  a caucus,  or  buy  or  sell  a vote, — the 
thing  we  call  “common”  honesty  is  much, — 
very  much,  but  it  is  not  the  whole  thing  in 
honesty.  This  is  a matter  of  training  large- 
ly. The  law  which  governs  is  one  of  induc- 
tion, Like  begets  like.  The  ideal  young 
citizen  of  a Republic  destined  to  be  first  in 
Peace,  must  somehow  be  led  into  the  right 
intellectual  as  well  as  moral  attitude  to- 
ward all  truth.  If  we  achieve  this,  he  will. 
In  the  hand  to  mouth  struggle  for  existence, 
which  is  the  fate  of  so  many,  vision  is  often 
obscured.  Occasional  blunders  are  unavoid- 
able. Truth  is  the  high  ground  from  which 
32 


we  overlook  the  field.  Sometimes,  when  the 
clouds  break,  as  they  do  and  will,  we  get, 
through  the  rift,  a view  of  the  heights  be- 
yond,— which  we  are  striving  to  obtain. 
Honesty  is  an  attitude. 

Again,  the  young  citizen  must  have  intel- 
lectual muscle  and  fibre;  or,  as  Huxley  puts 
it,  his  intellect  “must  be  a clear,  cold,  logic 
engine,  with  all  its  parts  of  equal  strength, 
and  in  smooth  working  order;  ready,  like  a 
steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind  of 
work,  and  spin  the  gossamers  as  well  as 
forge  the  anchors  of  the  mind.”  This,  of 
course,  in  degrees.  But  even  the  one  talent 
man  may  have  the  power  of  continuity — 
concentration  and  persistence — patience. 
If  we  have  these  qualities,  our  pupils  will 
get  them.  They  are  both  infectious  and 
contagious. 

In  a republic  like  ours,  patriotism  should 
be  the  commonest  of  virtues.  Do  any  of  us 
think  it  is?  If  so,  do  not  let  us  be  too  sure 
of  o-ur  opinion  until  it  has  been  tried  by 
other  tests  then  our  drum  and  trumpet  emo- 
tions. Civic  virtue  is  quite  as  necessary 
in  the  weak,  piping  times  of  peace  as  when 
the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears.  It  is  a 
woman’s  quality  as  well  as  a man’s.  To 
make  the  test  plain  and  simple,  has  the 
idea  of  universal  education  yet  obtained 
possession  of  our  hearts?  Let  us  try  it  by 
these  two  fair  and  simple  tests.  Are  we 
willing  to  vote  to  have  the  State  tax  rate 
raised  sufficiently  so  that,  after  supplying 
the  needs  of  the  State’s  charities  with  a 
liberality  amply  sufficient  to  place  Illinois 
in  the  foremost  rank,  as  of  right  she  ought 
to  be,  there  will  be  enough  left  to  enable 
the  State  to  supply  free  high  school  facili- 
33 


ties  to  every  boy  and  girl  who  can  be  in- 
duced to  use  them,  whether  the  home  hap- 
pens to  be  beside  a pavement  or  in  the 
fields?  Or  should  we  be  willing  to  vote, 
say  two  more  cents  on  the  hundred  dollars 
to  enable  the  State  to  supplement  the  re- 
resources  of  the  school  districts  to  such  an 
extent  that  every  district  might  have  the 
services  of  a trained,  competent,  and  fairly 
well  paid  teacher?  Such  tests  as  these  are 
real.  Are  we,  in  fact,  as  patriotic  in  small 
and  near  things  as  we  are  in  the  larger  and 
more  remote  affairs?  There  are  times 
when  pavements,  lights,  and  sewers  in  the 
city,  or  the  affairs  of  the  little  one-room 
school  out  in  the  country,  make  as  legiti- 
mate appeals  for  “firmness  in  the  right  as 
God  gives  us  to  see  the  right”  as  the  policy 
of  a Governor  or  a President.  We  must  so 
teach. 

But  I must  close.  If  we  are  indeed  the 
most  favored  nation  on  earth,  as  I firmly 
believe  we  are,  we  must  take  the  matter  of 
universal  education  seriously,  or  lose  our 
leadership.  This  country  needs  the  largest 
possible  number  of  liberally  educated  men 
and  women  for  the  responsible  duties  of 
leadership  in  all  its  forms.  It  needs  rightly 
trained  secondary  school  graduates  in  great- 
ly increased  numbers  for  the  social  ser- 
vices of  secondary  responsibility.  It  needs 
absolutely  universal  elementary  education 
as  a condition  of  continued  existence.  For 
all  of  them  the  constituted  authorities  will 
provide  the  material  equipment.  The 
“Macedonian  Cry”  is  for  teachers, — ever  for 
more  and  better  teachers, — teachers  who 
can  influence  the  greater  times  that  are 
to  come  by  influencing  aright  the  times  in 
34 


which  they  live, — teachers  who  combine 
practical  efficiency,  founded  upon  honesty, 
intellectual  ability,  patriotism  and  good 
business  habits,  all  colored  and  flavored 
with  a little  of  the  missionary  spirit,  plus  a 
continuing  tendency  to  growth,  self-culture, 
and  a higher  life,  all  combined  with  char- 
acter enough  to  induce  similar  qualities  in 
their  pupils,  to  the  end  that  democracy  shall 
not  become  a by-word,  through  our  unworth- 
iness and  our  country  a failure,  but  rather 
the  leader  and  powerful  examplar  of  every 
land  and  people  whose  choice  it  is  to 
“Depart  from  evil  and  do  good 
Seek  Peace  and  pursue  it.” 

If  you,  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  class  of  1909,  can  come  back  to  us  a 
little  later,  and  say,  “I  have  done  my  level 
best,  and  this  school  was  one  source  of  the 
strength  that  was  in  me,  increasing  my  for- 
titude, my  intellectual  and  moral  resources, 
and  my  love  of  my  work,”  we,  your  teach- 
ers here,  shall  be  lighter  of  heart,  and 
firmer  of  purpose,  as  we  rejoice  with  you 
that  under  the  purple  and  gold  of  the  Wes- 
tern Normal  you  have  nobly  striven  to  in- 
fluence the  times  in  which  we  live  by  hold- 
ing fast  to  and  increasing  the  righteousness 
which  exalteth  a nation,  thereby  influen- 
cing for  good  all  the  times  which  are  to 
follow. 

Macomb,  111.,  May  30,  1909. 


35 


